The Fourth Time
by Chirugal
Summary: The first time I see him, it doesn't even cross my mind that it *is* him. The second time, I think I'm hallucinating. The third time, I think I'm going crazy. The fourth time, there can be no mistake. Set in my Sir/Little Tease 'verse. Gibbs/Abby.
1. Watching

**Title**: The Fourth Time  
**Rating**: R for now, NC-17 by the time I'm done...  
**Summary**: The first time I see him, it doesn't even cross my mind that it _is_ him. The second time, I think I'm hallucinating. The third time, I think I'm going crazy. The fourth time, there can be no mistake.

**Warning! **This fic contains references to the BDSM scene and D/s relationship dynamics. Ye of the faint heart, abandon fic! Smutmeisters, right this way... :D

**Format Note**: Abby's in _italics_, Gibbs is in normal text.

* * *

The first time I see her, I'm sure I'm mistaken. It's too much of a coincidence. If it were going to happen, it would have done so long before now. But I take a few steps closer anyway, just to check.

And it's definitely Abby – from the chunky black boots to the spiderweb tattoo stretching over the skin of her neck. She sits on a couch in the corner of the club, talking animatedly to a couple of friends, idly stroking the leather tassels of a flogger over the cheek of the boy lying with his head in her lap. It's obvious that he's floating on a completely different plane, trying to make his way back down from subspace but not quite there yet. And although she's deep in conversation, she always has one eye on him, occasionally running her fingers through his hair.

I'm almost as good at lip-reading as Abby is, and when she drops her head down a little to address him, I can make out what she's saying even from a distance. "How're you doing? Didn't go too hard on you, did I?"

From the way she's speaking to him, conversationally and without any signs of power exchange, I can tell she's his casual top, not his Domme. A friend she plays with on occasion. For reasons I don't want to analyse, this is a relief.

The guy shakes his head with a slow smile, and she resumes her conversation, her fingers tapping out a light rhythm on his shoulder in time with the music to reassure him she hasn't forgotten about him. I'm not surprised by her attentiveness. If there's one thing Abby's best at, it's reassuring people.

She glances through the archway into the play area of the club, and I follow her line of sight. Just visible is a St. Andrew's cross, and a girl with bright blue hair is tied to it, arms and legs spread-eagled. Her partner flicks a whip over her flesh time and again, and Abby's eyes follow each movement a little wistfully.

She's not just a top, then. I'd suspected, but her face, touched with subtle longing, confirms it. As I watch her, she shakes her head slightly, and her eyes flick over in my direction, and then away. She hasn't spotted me, but I'm reminded of the dangerous position I've placed myself in by hanging around. Not wanting to risk discovery by staying any longer, I leave my half-finished drink on the bar and head for the door.

* * *

_The first time I see him, it doesn't even cross my mind that it _is_ him. I mean, Gibbs at a fetish club? Come on. It just wouldn't happen. All I see is a silver-haired guy walking away from where I'm sitting. He reminds me of Gibbs, but that's happened before. By now, I'm used to it._

_I comb my fingers through Danny's hair and watch each snap of the whip as Smurfette lounges back against the cross, her face a picture of pained pleasure. I'm a little jealous. Okay, so I was the top tonight, and I enjoyed myself, but now I'm in the mood for something a little more… punishing. Maybe next weekend._

_And if I'm allowed to close my eyes, I can imagine Gibbs is the one dealing out the pain. That's my guilty little secret, and it's gonna stay that way._

* * *

The second time I seek her out, it's on purpose. This time she's in the play room, bent over the vault-horse, her skirt pushed up over her back to expose her firm, tight behind to the room. She's wearing only a black lace thong, and the tattoo of a Celtic knot on her butt stands out against her pale skin.

Standing over her is a tall girl in a figure-hugging PVC catsuit. Her long blonde hair spills over her shoulder as she crouches in front of Abby, laying out the ground rules for play. Abby nods and smiles, muscles tight with anticipation, and the girl takes her position behind her, a wicked-looking riding crop in hand. It cracks down, once, twice, and I see her flinch. But her face is turned from me.

I move along the wall, skirting playing couples, until I can see her expression. Her eyes are open, staring at nothing, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she gasps through the pain.

She's obviously enjoying herself quite a bit. I have to look away for a moment to keep a hold on my composure. As much as I want to stride over there, snatch the crop from Abby's top and take over, I know I can't. For so many reasons, etiquette being the least of them.

I take one last look, then turn and leave, ignoring the insistent tug of desire that witnessing the scene has brought.

* * *

_The second time I see him, I think I'm hallucinating. Glorious pain burns through my skin, intensifying with each crack of the riding crop, and tears sting my eyes as a grin steals over my face. Isabelle knows me too well – her instructions included the phrase 'do _not_ close your eyes'. There's a disadvantage to playing with close friends, I guess._

_So I look around me, as well as I can. My vision is blurry, but through the tears I see a guy standing up against the wall, across the room. The silver hair and no-nonsense body language immediately make my gutter-dwelling mind think of Gibbs, but I chalk it up to subspace playing tricks on me._

_Isabelle lands a particularly hard blow on me, and I can't help but reflexively squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them again, there's no-one there. Maybe there never was._

* * *

The third time I enter the club, my mind alive with the memory of the previous weekend's display, she's set herself back from the scene a little, perhaps sated for now. She flits between groups of friends, peeps around the arch of the play room entryway for a few minutes, unashamedly voyeuristic, and then heads straight for me – or for the bar, more accurately. I step back and lose myself in a crowd of people, making my escape like the coward I am.

If I succumb to the urge to visit again, then I'll make myself known to her.

* * *

_The third time I see him, I think I'm going crazy. It's happened again! There's someone who looks suspiciously like my silver-haired fox, heading away from the bar. Only that's not possible. Gibbs has been more attentive lately, his gaze lingering on me where usually he'd be paying attention to whatever results I was giving him. I don't know why that is, but I've been obsessing over it. And now I keep seeing him, here?_

_It's like I'm the poster-child for wishful thinking. I need to stop torturing myself like this._

* * *

The fourth time I find her here, she's with a friend. I keep to the shadows, watching her from a distance, knowing that this time I'm going to approach her or else risk losing all self-respect.

Abby's friend grabs her wrist, pointing at someone across the room. Abby smiles and nudges her. "Go," I see her say. "Have fun. I'll hang here for a while."

Her friend leaves her side, making a beeline for a guy with a shaven head. Abby's left alone, leaning against the bar. Given how many friends she has, she won't be that way for long. I have to act now.

* * *

_The fourth time I see him, there can be no mistake. I stand at the bar, casting an eye around for people I know._

_Without warning, two fingers slip under my collar and tug slightly, pulling the leather strip tighter around my throat. I turn with a resigned glare, preparing to give yet another over-confident Dom a piece of my mind. Don't these people realise there are protocols to be obs-_

_Gibbs?!_

_I feel the anger drop from my features, replaced by open-mouthed shock. He's… this… I have no idea what he's doing here, but his fingers are cool against my overheating flesh and his eyes are boring into me, and he looks so good and he feels amazing, and I just want to die of happiness…_

_He's probably here to tell me he needs me at the Navy Yard. Calm down. Get a grip. "Gibbs… what are you doing here?"_

* * *

She gazes up at me, her confusion not quite able to mask the glimmer of hope she's trying to quell. Abby's easy to read. And I've known she wants me for a long time, but until I saw her here I'd always been able to keep temptation at bay.

Now I've lost the battle, and as I curl my fingers tighter round the collar, pulling it further against her neck, she realises my intent. She lowers her head a little in acquiescence, gazing up at me through her thick, dark lashes. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips, and I know in that moment just how to wipe it away.

I bring my lips down to hers, never releasing my hold on her collar, and she gives a tiny gasp, leaning into the embrace as much as I'll let her. When I break off, she's too busy relearning how to breathe to smile. And I'm fighting to stay in control of the urge to slide my fingers up under her skirt and watch her shatter under the force of her orgasm. It wouldn't take much. Already her skin is flushed, and she's trembling.

But not here. Not with an audience. The other girls, maybe, but I've wanted Abby for too long to rush things now.

* * *

_"You know how long I've been waiting to do that, little tease?"_

_What did he…? Oh, god… I was wet from the moment I processed the fact that it was him. Within seconds of hearing my new play-name, my panties are soaked, my entire body humming with animal _want_. "How long?" I whisper, forcing the words out before I forget how to speak._

_"Seven years, give or take." His nonchalant words are belied by his lust-darkened eyes, and I shiver in response, because whoa, that's a_ long _time. Almost as long as I've fantasised about this…_

_"Want to get out of here, little tease?" He uses the name deliberately this time, knowing exactly what it'll do to me._

_"Yes, sir," I tell him softly, and actually getting to say those words in the context I've always wanted to say them? It's the highlight of my year. And possibly of my adult life._

_He removes his fingers from my collar, taking my hand instead. "Then let's go."_


	2. Claiming

**Author's Note**: Okay, it's really been a while since I posted the first chapter of this... but I've now gotten around to finishing it off! As before, Gibbs' sections are in normal text, and Abby's are in _italics_. One other thing: when I say 'rack', I mean this (damn fanfiction-dot-net for not allowing links!):

www [dot] roissyworkshops [dot] co [dot] uk [slash] Images [slash] equipment [slash] Rack [dot] jpg

* * *

We get to my car, and she slides into the passenger seat at my command, sitting straight, her eyes tracking me as I skirt around the front end to the driver's door. When I get in and seal us into the confined space, she chances a look over at me, obviously burning to ask me something.

I ignore it on purpose, knowing she won't speak until I ask it of her. She hovers in the twilight state between normality and submissive, her head too full of questions for her to transition completely.

When I turn the car onto the main street, I glance across at her. "Your place or mine, little tease?"

Abby thinks for a second before answering. "It's your call, sir. But I don't know how much equipment you have at your place, and I have a rack."

Surprised, I make the turning toward her apartment. "Where?"

"In the room I always keep locked."

It's the one room in her apartment I've never been in, the one she lets people assume she uses for storage. Looks like tonight has more possibilities than I imagined.

* * *

_I recognise the route back to my apartment, and my skin tingles with anticipation. In all the years I've wanted Gibbs, I never realised just how badly until this moment. I have so many things I want to ask him, but the instinct to submit to him overrides everything, and I sit quietly, trying to keep still._

_When we get to my place I walk a pace behind him through the building, to my door. He stands aside to let me open it, and I shut it after us, turning the deadbolt before falling into a submissive posture – eyes down, hands behind my back, feet slightly apart._

_He steps into my personal space, hooking his finger into my collar again. "Look at me, little tease."_

_I meet his eyes and flinch a little at the intensity in them, wondering how hard he plays, if I can take all he has to give. "Do you want this?" he asks, and I feel the caution behind the words, his need to be sure he isn't coercing me into anything. It's instantly reassuring, and I give a slight nod._

"_Yes, sir."_

_He gives me a swift kiss, and I know the reply has pleased him. "Go to the rack, then. Clothes off, and wait for me."_

_I comply a little shakily, unlocking my play room and stepping inside. The rack takes up almost the entire space, and the only other thing I can fit in here is the cabinet where I keep my toys, but it's so worth it. _

_Quickly I strip away my clothing, the cool air hitting my burning flesh like a slap. Once I'm naked, I kneel by the rack, waiting for him._

* * *

I draw things out for five minutes, kicking off my shoes and gazing out of the window as I build up the suspense. I've thought of this moment almost constantly since I first saw her at the club a month ago, and now it's arrived I need to make it last.

I finally head down the hall to the door at the end, which is standing open. Abby is kneeling on the floor, which is a welcome surprise. She's a better sub than I'd imagined – how good, I have yet to find out.

"Good girl," I tell her, and can almost feel her gratification at the praise. "Stand up."

She rises in one graceful, practised motion. I run my hands over her skin, examining her slender figure and resisting the urge to just have my way with her now, forgoing the plans I have for the evening. When I trail a finger down her abdomen and over her clit, she shivers, her breath hitching in a suppressed gasp.

I kiss her, drawing back a little when she instinctively seeks to deepen it, making sure she knows exactly who's in control. Her entire body is trembling with expectation, and without breaking off I lift her off the ground, setting her down on the rack and then drawing away.

There are a few things a rack is good for. Traditionally it's used for stretching the limbs out, pulling them, causing a little discomfort whilst keeping the sub spread-eagled and helpless. That's not what I have in mind for now, though.

* * *

_I can't stop shaking, and it's not because I'm cold. Gibbs' hands on me are practised, confident – he's sought my permission and now he's damn well gonna take what he's asked for._

_At his direction, I kneel up on the rack's cool, smooth padding, my legs tucked under me. Somehow I know that he's not gonna stretch me – the restraints dangling down from the overhead support are just too tempting for that. So when he takes my right hand, his fingertips lingering on the underside of my wrist as if taking my pulse, I already know he's going to tighten the fabric cuff around it, securing my arm slightly above my head._

_He follows suit with the other arm, ensuring that my upper arms are at around a ninety degree angle to my torso. Once he's satisfied, he eyes me appreciatively, and my body responds to his gaze, sending a light shiver through me._

"_Are your toys in here?" he asks, indicating the cabinet in the corner of the room._

"_Yes, sir," I answer softly, and he opens the doors, taking in the neatly arranged floggers, paddles, clamps, blindfolds, cuffs… My collection's pretty impressive, and I'm proud of it, but it hasn't made me this excited in years._

_He picks out a heavy red leather flogger, a personal favourite of mine. Running its tassels through his fingers, he says, "Safeword."_

"_Magnesium," I whisper, and he nods, storing the word away._

* * *

I trail the flogger down her back, over her ass, along the back of her thighs. Abby's head drops, her pigtails hanging in her face, as she falls deeper into a submissive state.

When I flick my wrist, snapping the flogger's tassels down on her ass, she gasps, arching her back as she adjusts to the sensation. "How's that, little tease?" I ask, kissing her shoulder.

"Perfect, sir," she whispers, and I hear the smile in her voice.

Making sure to keep myself attuned to her reactions, I start a steady rhythm, striking different parts of her ass and thighs until the entire area is red tinged with purple bruises. Abby cries out as I vary the strength of the blows, her breathing shaky. Every moan she makes sends a jolt of arousal through me, but I ignore it, focusing on my task.

When I gauge she's had enough for now, I lay down the flogger and begin to smooth my hands over her skin, massaging the worst of the sting away. "Good girl," I murmur to her, and she sighs, leaning back against my hands.

I want her so badly that I can hardly stand it.

* * *

_My ass tingling with the memory of the flogger's touch, I wait for Gibbs' next move. He walks into my line of sight, his eyes devouring me, and then he kisses me, drinking me in._

_His fingers slip between my legs again, finding me burning, wet and desperate for him. I moan as he brushes my clit, pulling tightly against my restraints to keep myself from toppling over. "Oh, god, sir…"_

_He steps back immediately, and I open my eyes, wondering if I should have kept quiet. When I see that he's stripping off his shirt, my heart jumps._

_He moves out of my line of vision, but then I feel him join me on the rack, behind me. "Legs apart, little tease," he instructs, and I do as he asks, placing one knee on either side of the rack._

_Gibbs kneels behind me, the naked skin of his chest moulding against my back, his arms around my waist as he kisses the sensitive spot between my neck and my shoulder. I whimper as his erection presses against the small of my back, leaning back against him instinctively._

_His hands travel upward, cupping my breasts, teasing my nipples until I whisper his name in frustration. Then his right hand slides down my body, stopping just short of my clit._

_I bite back an irritated curse, but I know he feels my annoyance. With a low laugh that makes my spine tingle, he whispers, "Beg me."_

_The words come without effort. "Please, sir… I need you to touch me, I want you so much… You have no idea how this feels, how hot I am for you, how close to coming I am-"_

_With a growl of assent, he plunges two fingers inside me, his thumb beginning an irresistible rhythm against my clit, and I cry out, completely at his mercy. Within a minute, I'm begging him for permission to come, my body trembling with the suppressed need._

"_Come for me," he says finally, and I do, my head falling back against his shoulder as I allow myself to fall apart, the orgasm so intense that I hang from my restraints, supported by Gibbs' arm around me, gasping for air._

"_Good girl," he tells me as my senses return, and I feel his body pressed up tight against me, reminding me that he hasn't satisfied his own urges yet._

* * *

Watching Abby lose control is almost more than I can take, and I kiss her spiderweb tattoo softly before releasing my hold on her. Disoriented and deprived of contact, she makes a small noise of complaint, looking around for me. As quickly as I can, I shed the remainder of my clothing and get back up onto the rack, this time facing her.

Her eyes sweep over my naked body, and I react impulsively, moving up against her and grabbing her hips with such suddenness that her eyes widen and her breath catches. "Like what you see, little tease?"

Abby swallows and nods, unwilling – or more likely unable – to speak. I kiss down her body, teasing her nipples with my tongue, biting gently, and then not so gently. She leans into me, wordlessly encouraging the contact, and I can't wait any longer.

With an almost gentle touch, I position myself at her entrance, letting her know my intent. She trembles, her eyes falling closed, and I feel her hips instinctively jerk forward a little before she reins the impulse in. "Good girl," I murmur against her lips, holding her by the waist to steady her. "Now tell me what you want."

"You, sir…" The words are breathed rather than spoken, and I feel them against my flesh.

"Can't hear you," I torment her softly, pulling her body forward and pushing into her just a little way, enough so that the slightest movement will break our connection. It's all I can do to stop there, and Abby's forehead falls against mine as she battles with her own self-control.

"Sir, _please_…"

* * *

"_What are you asking me for, little tease? I told you I couldn't hear you…" Gibbs' words are a barely-audible growl, and I can feel the tension in his body as he taunts me._

_I want him so much that I can hardly think, let alone form words, but I manage to put together one shaky sentence, hoping and praying it'll be enough. "I need you to fuck me, sir…"_

_Maybe he wasn't expecting me to curse, because his fingers dig almost painfully into my waist as he drives into me, his arms the only things that stop me from being thrown off-balance. The feel of him filling me, completing me, _fucking_ me is indescribably amazing, and I tug at my restraints as I shift position from kneeling to wrapping my legs around his waist. He supports me without letting up, and I let him take total control, whispering encouragement, expletives, then wordless noises as he takes me right up to the edge._

_He doesn't wait for me to beg this time, breathing permission in my ear just as I'm ready. I moan unrestrainedly as I lose myself in waves of pleasure so concentrated that it's almost too much to bear, my fingernails digging into my palms, my vision and hearing completely obliterated for a brief, blissful moment._

_By the time I can think again, Gibbs is done, too, his arms a little unsteady as he lowers me so that my feet touch the mat again. I try to reorient myself, trailing kisses down his chest, as he works at the cuffs around my wrists, releasing them and pulling me atop him into a horizontal position._

_We lie there, exhausted, calming down. He kisses my head, strokes his hands down my aching arms, soothes me, reassures me. And I never want this to end._

* * *

Finally claiming what I've always thought of as mine is a sensation beyond measure. For a while, we drift, too worn out to move, enjoying the moment. Just before I'm ready to break the silence, she beats me to it.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?" The words finally make it past her lips.

The sentence triggers a memory – she's said this to me before. I reply with the same answer I gave her then. "You always speak freely, Abbs."

She lifts her head from my chest and smiles at me as she recalls the exchange, and softly says, "I know. I just always wanted to say that."

Suddenly, that conversation takes on a whole new meaning. Storing away the fact to ponder later, I ask, "What did you want to say?"

"Where do I start?" I wait past her rhetoric, and after a pause she continues, "How long…?"

She doesn't seem inclined to elaborate, so I ask her, "How long what? Have I been doing this stuff? Have I wanted you? Or have I wanted to make you _mine_?" At the last I tug gently on her collar, ensuring she gets the intended symbolism of the word.

Abby draws in an unsteady breath as I release her collar again, and whispers, "All of the above."

I think about it, half-distracted as she begins to run her fingers up and down my side. "First answer: a few years. Second answer: since you kicked me out of your lab and told me not to come back until you damn well called me down there…" Her giggle makes me smile, and I pause a second before continuing, remembering her exasperation, hardly a year into her employment at the Navy Yard. "Third answer… since quite a while before I first saw you at the club a month ago."

She's quiet, digesting the information, and the small smile hovering around the corners of her lips tells me that it's exactly what she wanted to hear. Tugging her into a brief kiss, I tell her, "Now you."

Abby settles down, thinking. "Since I was about twenty-one. Since I first made you smile… and that took a while! And…" She hesitates, then continues slowly, "since we had the case with the latex alien mask and we had that conversation about fetishes."

I remember it well, just like I've remembered it when I'm alone on countless nights. _Hey, Gibbs… do you have any fetishes?_ I'd evaded the question, but ever since, in my fantasies I've chosen to tell her, to watch her eyes widen, her suggestive smile grow…

"Do you want to be my girl, little tease?" It's a formality, but a necessary one. And she tightens her arms around me as she replies, with casual conviction.

"I always have been, sir."


End file.
